


Beyond Healing

by illwynd



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 11:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illwynd/pseuds/illwynd
Summary: Thor tries to reconnect with his brother on the ship. But there is something he doesn't know about Loki's recent experiences.





	Beyond Healing

**Author's Note:**

> This was a drawerfic of mine not intended to see the light of day but here we are anyway. So yeah. Mind the tags. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
> 
> Thank you to Seamayweed and Schaudwen for reading through it and telling me it might be postable!

 

Loki batted Thor’s hand away, harder this time.

“Don’t.”

It was not a snarl; rather more carefully held in check than that. An attempt at deception, and Thor was of course no longer fooled by any such from his brother.

But weeks of strain and boredom on the ship, traversing space toward an uncertain future, and Thor was glad of his brother’s presence and how few problems he had presented. They had, Thor thought, been making good progress in healing their relationship, enough that he had warily, tentatively, suggested this evening that Loki might spend some time with him in his quarters.

Thor had not asked for or wanted the most spacious and well appointed of the available rooms, but no one else had been willing to take them in his stead, and they were ill suited for any other purpose, with the large bed taking up the center of the floor, and the cabinet that had already been mostly emptied of drinks and dainties. He had, somewhere in the back of his mind, been hoping he might have the opportunity to share its opulence with Loki, if all went well.

And Loki had agreed. He’d given Thor a contemplative look over their plates, then a brief nod, and he had asked what time he should arrive.

“Whenever you like. I haven’t anything else to take care of tonight. So it’s merely you and me.”

Loki had nodded again and then excused himself, disappearing off to who-knew-where for the better part of an hour before turning up at Thor’s door, looking composed.

Thor had offered him a drink from one of the few bottles that remained, and Loki had declined. Thor had taken a seat on the small divan, which was the only such furniture aside from the bed, and spread an arm to gesture Loki in beside him, which Loki obeyed, sitting with his knees together. He peered around the room, a flash of curiosity in his eyes, but one leg jittered briefly and with the fingernails of one hand he picked at the skin of the other.

Thor frowned. “Loki, are you all right?”

Loki’s foot came to a halt on the floor. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just wondering if you’re sure you know what you’re doing.”

“Of course I do, you ought to remember that well enough,” Thor answered with a laugh, but Loki’s mouth pulled into something that was not a smile, and he turned to look Thor in the eye.

“Amusing, but that’s not what I meant. Are you certain you wanted to invite me here tonight?”

“Why would I not?”

Loki looked away, and Thor studied his face in profile, the mask of it, the sharp, pale cheeks and the unsmiling mouth.

Thor did still love his brother, and though he had doubts that they would ever return to the camaraderie and trust they had once shared, he desired Loki’s presence. He missed the feeling of his brother in his arms. He missed the things they used to do together, and he wanted Loki to know that what had happened on Sakaar had not changed any of that. It had not been a rejection, though he imagined that Loki might have perceived it so. It was merely… a push. It had been his way of telling Loki no. That Thor would not play by his rules anymore.

When Thor leaned over to kiss him in lieu of further words, he felt Loki’s shaky huff brush his cheek before Loki’s mouth opened to him and Loki’s hands came up to grasp his shoulders.

The trouble did not begin until Thor had stripped off his own tunic and relieved Loki of his. After they had moved from deep, searching kisses on the divan to kneeling together on the bed, chests bare, hands wandering. Loki’s face betrayed no expression—nothing but an intent look—as he proved the strength of his memory for what had always excited and tormented Thor best. Nails scratching down Thor’s back while his brother nipped at his throat. Fingers tangling in his hair—so much less of it now, and Thor regretted the loss more strongly than he had since it was shorn—while he growled and groped in response.

And all the more so when Loki pushed him down onto his back—always Loki had been a bold lover, forceful and determined, in ways that made Thor thrill—and yanked his trousers from his hips and swiftly swallowed him down. The hot mouth that descended upon him knew him well, knew his preferences and his needs, and Loki cupped his stones gently while his tongue caressed Thor’s shaft, licking along the swollen vein on the underside.

Thor had indeed missed his brother’s touch, and he couldn’t help bucking his hips a little into the wet pull of Loki’s mouth, knowing it would make Loki attempt, futilely, to pin him more firmly.

“Are you not glad you came back to me?” Thor asked, grinning, when green eyes flashed up at him, and Thor expected a full-mouthed snort that would convey Loki’s annoyance with him, or perhaps a slap to the bare skin of his hip, but he got neither. Loki merely squeezed his eyes shut and sucked harder, and Thor forgot it all a moment later, for obvious reasons.

Some part of Thor’s mind that was not merely thrumming with pleasurable sensation was warmed instead, and perhaps surprised, by the peculiar quality to Loki’s motions. Skilled as always, irresistible, comfortingly familiar… yet there was something new in it. Thor could not quite place it, except that he hoped it meant Loki had missed him as well.

When afterward Thor lay panting, though, he made the mistake of asking in the worst possible way.

“How long had it been for you?” he said as Loki climbed up beside him, and Loki did not so much as pause.

“You’d know as well as I would.”

Thor frowned. “No, I mean… not since _us_. At all. With anyone.”

Loki glanced at him, and his expression was unreadable. “Yes, and my answer is the same.”

“Truly?”

Thor didn’t intend it to sound so dubious, and he nearly tried to soften the word somehow, but Loki had already scoffed and stiffened, shoulders moving in evident discomfiture.

“What, did you really believe I would do anything with that madman?”

Thor shrugged. “You might have, if it were a means to an end.”

Loki gave another annoyed huff and moved to sit up, but Thor reached out to grasp his arm to halt him.

“Fine, you didn’t. How was I to know?”

Loki did not budge, did not allow Thor to coax him back down. His eyes flashed. “So what sort of means to an end was your mortal woman?” he snapped.  

Thor loosened his grip, and Loki yanked his wrist away. Thor’s mouth hung open, but only for a moment.

“I am not the one who routinely does such things as fake my own death merely for how it will benefit me. You cannot accuse me of all your crimes, brother.”

Loki had made it only far enough to reach for his abandoned tunic, but now he whirled.

“You have not once _asked_ what happened and how it was that I survived. You have not once asked _why_ I did what I did, so do not claim to—”

Thor let himself sink back with a heavy sigh and what was becoming a very repetitive feeling of exhausted frustration.

“Must we do this again?” he said, voice expressing all his weariness with the entire concept. “I cannot imagine how I am meant to pull the same trick this time, except it did not work as well as I thought, so I don’t think I’ll try.”

Thor was mildly surprised that the following silence was not broken by one of his brother’s outbursts, but when he turned his head (the missing eye made things difficult sometimes), he discovered that was because Loki had gone, disappeared into thin air, leaving Thor alone in the opulent captain’s suite.

A few hours later he woke from a light and unsettled doze, realizing that perhaps he had been slightly unfair. And he had certainly left things imbalanced between them, with a debt for Loki to hold over his head.

*

Thor eventually found Loki in the bowels of the ship, working, as he had taken to doing, at the various enchantments that were needed to turn a Sakaarian pleasure vessel into a legitimate lifecraft carrying what remained of Asgard.

When Loki spotted him, he barely flinched, only kept up whatever it was he’d been doing, involving a glowing panel of mysterious leads and buttons.

“I’m here to apologize, brother,” Thor said, quietly, once he reached Loki’s side. He watched Loki’s hands—glimmering with faint magic—as they adjusted the configuration on the panel. “I did not intend to accuse you. Particularly not in such a moment. Particularly not since I was only trying to tell you how I had missed being with you. Come back tonight and let me find some better way to say it.”

Loki did not answer right away, but eventually he nodded.

It was strange that Loki neither snapped at him nor refused him, nor even tried to wring further apologies. But Thor supposed he could not blame Loki for seeming different when he himself had demanded that Loki change.

And Loki did appear again at his door that evening, and things began much like the night before.

“This really isn’t wise,” Loki said, pacing a few nervous steps, sounding half tormented, before backing Thor against the wall with his old ferocity.

“Now is when I remind you that you’re not, isn’t it?” Thor answered, a grin on his lips, and that made Loki blink in confusion for a moment before dropping his hands to Thor’s belt and dropping to his knees before him, in the same moment. Sliding open the fastenings, pulling out Thor’s hard cock and for a moment merely holding it, gazing upon it hungrily, with longing. Leaning forward and—oddly—pressing its length to his cheek while he nuzzled in the fur at its base, breathing in. Then sinking lower to kiss and lick at Thor’s balls while his hand stroked idly, thumb rolling over the velvet-soft head, making Thor shiver at the feeling of a fingertip over the sensitive slit. Then Loki gazed up at him, with a wistful smile, before he got to work.

The part of Thor that was not awash and lost in pleasure wondered what that was about.

And why, twice now, Loki had gotten Thor’s cock in his mouth before Thor had even succeeded in getting Loki’s pants off.

It was not that Loki had ever been a _selfish_ lover, exactly, but he had always liked to receive as much as give.

This change, while not unwelcome, was almost enough to draw Thor’s suspicions.

Thus, this time when he finished, coming down Loki’s throat with a shout, shuddering and cursing while his brother sucked the spill from him hard enough to make his stones ache, he collapsed against the wall and groped at Loki’s shoulders, whimpering to bring him up from his knees.

Thor kissed him when he stood, savoring the taste of himself still on Loki’s tongue, and Loki groaned and sank against him.

Thor smiled into the kiss. “My turn, then,” he murmured, and he reached for the fastenings of Loki’s trousers.

But Loki made a disapproving noise and pushed his hand away. “No need. I’m fine.”

Thor was fully suspicious now.

“Fair is fair, brother. You must let me....”

Loki batted his hand away, harder this time.

“Don’t.”

Thor frowned. “Why not? Is something wrong?”

“Of course not,” Loki said, as if this were perfectly reasonable.

“Then you simply aren’t interested? It hasn’t seemed so…”

Loki gave him a look, rolling his eyes. “Assuage your ego, Thor. I still desire you or I would not have just sucked you off, quite well I might add.”

“Ego assuaged,” Thor answered. “And your bragging rights at cocksucking are secured as well.”

Another eye-roll.

“Yet that still leaves me with no reason for your refusal.”

“Do I need one?” Loki asked, a furrow forming in his brow. “Perhaps I merely felt like being generous.”

Thor allowed himself to laugh. “Loki, whatever it is, just tell me, or else I’ll soon think it must be some new game of yours.”

Loki took a step farther away, and his shoulders sagged. He peered back at Thor. “It’s not. But evidently you would not believe me if I explained. Which I won’t.”

Thor pushed away from the wall with his elbows, tucking himself in but beyond that not bothering to re-dress as he followed Loki across the room. “Of course I would believe you, if you deigned to tell me the truth.”

Loki glanced over his shoulder. Unlike the time before, Thor had not even managed to get Loki’s tunic off, so there was nothing to prevent him from leaving… yet here he still was, giving a mirthless chuckle as he strode toward the divan as if he might sit but at the last moment decided against it.

“No, you wouldn’t. You would likely accuse me of faking such an injury to gain your sympathy or—or some such nonsense. As if I would _ever_ admit to it if it weren’t true. As if I would ever allow you or anyone else to become aware of such a defect. I will not, and I don’t care what you decide to suspect of me because of it.”

Caught up in the moment, Thor nearly answered. Then he paused, replaying Loki’s words in his mind. “Injury? What injury?”

Loki went very pale.

“If you were injured, why have you not been to the healers? What sort of—”

“Drop it,” Loki snapped.

“Loki,” Thor threatened.

Loki glared in response. “The injury I meant was your eye, you fool. How’s your depth perception, by the way?” he said, while side-stepping and darting toward the door.

But Thor had been Loki’s elder brother for hundreds of years, and he would not let Loki off the hook that easily. And he was stubborn and insistent, and he kept up, grabbing hold of Loki and grappling with him, in the way of brothers, intending to pin him and restrain him until he gave in and admitted whatever it was that he was so loath to speak.

So they fought, and Loki struggled against him in earnest, and—and it turned into something wholly unfamiliar. Thor had fought his brother as an enemy, and he had sparred with him for hundreds of years before that, and never had he seen such panic on Loki’s face, deathly pallor and clammy sweat and still he was fighting.

There were tears at the corners of Loki’s eyes, and his pupils were wide; in another moment Thor would have let go of him, but in that instant his hand came down to rest…

It took far too long for Thor to realize the wrongness of what he felt.

Loki stared at him as he realized it. In silence, their eyes met.

In a burst of strength Loki shoved him away and sat up, turning from him. Shocked, Thor moved back to let him.

“Damn you,” Loki said, his voice choked with strain. Thor could see his brother’s chin quivering in profile.

“Who?” Thor asked, dumbly, but unable to think of any more sensible question. “When? Was it on Sakaar? Or…”

“It doesn’t _matter_. I don’t want to speak of it, or—or _think_ of it, ever again. It doesn’t matter. And I will not see the healers; they can no more restore it than they can your eye, and I will not be poked and prodded and _pitied_ , for _nothing_.”

Thor watched, helpless, as the trembling in Loki’s form grew worse. He did not attempt to help or steady him. Thor knew well enough to know it would not be welcome. Loki still would not look at him, either.

“I did not want _you_ to know,” Loki mumbled, sounding dazed. “I did not want you to _ever_ know. Why did I let you find out? Why did I let you…”

Thor still could do nothing but stare. “Why would you not tell me _that_?”

Loki’s eyes burned when at last they met Thor’s. “Because the only thing worse than being pitied is _not_ being pitied. And you’ve already made quite clear that you don’t care what has been done to me or what I’ve suffered. Only what I’ve done.”

Thor thought of Loki agreeing to come here this evening and the one before, believing such things about Thor and yet sharing such intimacy with him… shying away and feigning as if nothing were wrong…

“So you meant to simply deceive me about it forever?”

Loki jolted. “Deceive you? _Deceive you?_ ”

“That’s… my apologies, brother, that came out wrong. That is not what I meant to say,” Thor protested, knowing already that the words would be futile. “And I do care what has happened to you. Truly, I do...”

Loki wiped his hand across his face, swiping away the moisture, and when his palm had passed it left a mask behind.

When he spoke, his voice was empty and calm.

“I’m not feeling very well all of a sudden. I think I should go rest. You’ll have to excuse me, Thor.”

And then he was gone, before Thor could think to argue.

Thor spent the night not feeling well either, nausea twisting in his stomach. At the thought of the harm that had been done to Loki. At the understanding of what had become of _them_. The horror of what remained of their brotherhood, if anything truly remained at all.

For three days thereafter, Loki avoided him. Not rudely; he made brief appearances to report on his progress on the ship, eyes downcast, though once or twice he chose instead to pass such messages through Heimdall, of all people.

The second time, Thor could not bear it.

“Heimdall,” he asked. “How much could you see of what happened to Loki when he was gone from Asgard? How much could you see of his condition when he returned?”

The former guardian’s brow furrowed, and that level, golden gaze appraised him. “I knew little and saw less. Was there something in particular you wished to know?”

“Did you ever see him… grievously injured?”

Heimdall’s gaze did not change, merely a slight twitch of the head, and Thor was uncertain whether that was confirmation or ignorance, but he would not voice what his brother wished to keep secret, so he could do no more than shrug this off, insist that he had merely wondered.

During the time that Loki was mostly avoiding him—interacting only for the most necessary few words and then fading again into the background, moving silent in the shadows and swiftly excusing himself whenever Thor entered a room with him in it—Thor began to notice things about his manner, and how changed it was.

Loki was indeed different now, and not entirely to Thor’s liking. More solemn and withdrawn, but not with the haughty studiousness of his childhood.

And though he knew it had all been justified, Thor could not stop the little twinge of guilt. He had chided Loki that he must change himself—and Loki had, only it had shrunk him down. Made him _less_. He smiled less, spoke less. Kept to himself.

Thor had been justified in demanding it and leaving his brother twitching and helpless on the floor to contemplate his words.

His brother, who had by then already been maimed and who had meant never to tell him of it, because he did not believe that Thor would care. And Thor had proved him right. In Loki’s eyes, he surely had.

They had both well earned the other’s distrust, and nothing Thor had done had mended it. Not really. Not for him, and certainly not for his brother.

And then, on the fourth day, it was like nothing had gone wrong. Loki reappeared (calmly, quietly) and he turned diligently to whatever tasks one of the few sorcerers aboard might undertake, and he greeted Thor with a nod and a murmur when they met, and his eyes gave nothing away.

Thor was not sure it could be mended anymore. Like his eye, or Loki’s injury. Perhaps it could not be restored.

Thor could not accept that, and he stopped his brother in the hallway that evening, on the way back to his berth.

“Loki,” he said, catching his wrist and holding it tight in a trembling hand. “I need to speak with you.”

Loki did not quite look at him in return, and his expression was one that Thor did not recognize. Distant, with the anxious look of someone distracted and late for a meeting. “I would really rather not,” Loki said after a moment. “I’m weary. I promised Heimdall I would finish some repairs before this evening is over. Perhaps later.”

And Thor could not bear this. He was used to Loki’s lies, but not like this.

He did not let go of Loki’s wrist. If anything he clung tighter.

“Loki, I am sorry I did not ask what had happened. I’m sorry I assumed the worst of you.”

Loki shook his head, dismissive. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

Thor growled, his throat beginning to feel thick. “It _is_. You deserved better than that.”

“I’m sure I deserved worse as well. It doesn’t matter.”

And the Loki Thor grew up with would have shoved him away by now, thrashed free of his hold—something. This one merely waited, still not meeting his gaze.

Waited, and finally spoke when Thor did not.

“Thor. Please. Just let this go. I will stay and do whatever needs to be done for our people. But you needn’t concern yourself with me anymore. You were right; we are better off apart. Or perhaps that is just me being selfish.”

“What do you mean?” Thor asked, beyond confusion.

“I wish you didn’t know. But it’s too late for that.”

Loki had said it all with a steady voice. There were no tears on his face, none shining in his eyes. He stood there, calm, with his wrist in Thor’s grip, yet he was somewhere far away, and Thor could not touch him.

What else could Thor do but let him go? What else could he do but stand there, biting down viciously on his own lip as his brother walked away on silent feet, head bowed but shoulders tense to keep whatever remained of his pride. What else could Thor do but wait until Loki had gone and then make his retreat to his own opulent chamber—he hated it more in this moment, could hardly stand it—where he could let out the sob he had been holding back.

Alone, with a loneliness that he could feel stretching into the future, to the end of his life… alone, Thor began to weep, and he pressed his hand to his empty eye while tears dripped down the other side of his face.


End file.
